Many years ago when people carried their butter to Cork, there lived in the parish of Newmarket, a Protestant family called Philpots. This family possessed much riches and they were very hard towards the poor. From time to time the members of the family died, and the old gentleman was left alone. He lived for a few years in the old mansion with his mates and servants, but he died of grief.
After his death, the house was often covered with lights, and the people near by heard the grunting of a pig through the house.
One night a man was coming from Cork with a load of provision. As he was coming on to this house, he saw a pig standing in the middle of the road opposite the old Protestant Mansion.
He seemed to be looking up at the house. The man's horse shyed, but the man held him fast, and when